Shop With a Cop
by ajsqdaway
Summary: Ten year old Vin and Denver Police Department Sergeant Chris Larabee cross paths more than once in this "how they met" story.
1. Part One

Shop With a Cop

By AJB

Part One

Christmas in July. Sgt. Larabee snorted at the idiocy of the event. Understanding the principle of the idea was simple enough, that was a given; to an adult, it was one more chance during the year to feel better helping the unfortunate. To a kid, it was another chance to rake in more useless gifts that would probably be appreciated for about a week before relegating it to the Pile of Unloved Toys.

The label brought forth a mental vision of a Claymation Rudolph and the Island of Misfit Toys with the very sharp memory of Adam's giggling at Yukon Jack and that white Yeti creature . . . and Larabee's throat tightened.

A well-practiced combination of clearing his throat, looking elsewhere, and directing his thoughts to baseball or cleaning the barn or harvesting dog poop in the yard – anything else – worked to banish the raw, long suppressed emotions. Chris forced a strangled sigh, pressed his lips into a hard line, and then refocused his attention on the broken, squirming line of County foster kids on the sidewalk leading to Jumbo Jim's Discount Toy Warehouse waiting, impatiently, to be paired with a uniformed Denver Police Officer.

Sgt. Larabee managed to avoid the traditional December event for the last five years. Now, here he was at the summer "holiday" debacle which happened to coincide with a Denver Rockies double header.

"Whose brilliant idea was this fuckin' thing?" he growled as sweat rolled between his shoulder blades and under his Kevlar vest. "The timing sucks."

Beside him, Corporal Buck Wilmington's earthy chuckle did little to soften Larabee's ire. "Come on, Chris, it's better 'n directing midday traffic at the stadium. Then again," Buck mused while tapping his upper lip in thought, "all them pretty baseball fans in those skimpy summer dresses . . . Hmmm. Maybe you're right, pard."

"What's the matter, Buck," Larabee goaded with little glee. "Denver's County caseworkers aren't good enough for ya?" He nudged his longtime friend and subtly tipped his head toward a grey haired Amazon of a woman clutching a clipboard and ticking off names with sure flicks of her pen.

"Damn, Chris, she scares the bejesus out of me!" Buck whispered, maneuvering behind his shift supervisor. "She works with kids?"

"She's here, isn't she?" The pair watched the sturdy social worker stop to speak with two boys, her stiff posture spelling out her displeasure. The smaller boy shrank back and tucked in behind the taller boy, who not only stood his ground, but set his jaw and met the woman's eyes without flinching.

"Well, looky there," Buck chuckled. "Looks like the old bat met her match."

The rest of the line of children edged back from the trio, leaving a circle of open sidewalk and reminding Chris of a shooting target. The defiant boy never uttered a word and was not cowed. By the way the woman gripped the clipboard, Larabee could tell her anger slowly approached rage. He moved without thought and found himself at the boy's side just as the woman reached out to grab a skinny arm.

"I think the heat's getting to all of us," Larabee said sharply, inserting his body between the two and leveling a look at the woman that usually sent people into frightened retreat.

"Look here, Officer," the social worker started.

"Sergeant, not Officer."

As the unpleasant woman opened her mouth again, another voice eased the emotion in the air. "Thank you, Jessica, I'll take it from here." A tiny woman took the Amazon's arm and steered her away from the two boys.

"I told you that boy shouldn't be here, Nettie. It's no wonder no one will take him. He's trouble, like I told you."

"Yes, you did. Now take care of the next group, please."

Larabee blinked when the newcomer ignored him completely and smiled down at the defiant boy. "It's okay, Vin. You and JD are staying."

As she spoke, Nettie rested her hand on the skinny boy's shoulder and the fighting stance loosened, leaving a gangly limbed, awkward child behind. Chris realized then that the kid couldn't be more than 10 years old although his first impression had been that the boy was a short teen.

Vin nodded and turned just enough to check on his charge, whose relief was obvious, before raising his eyes and connecting with Chris gaze. The weary sadness Chris saw in the depths of those blue eyes stole his breath. He may only be a boy, but this child had the eyes of someone much, much older.

"Sergeant?"

Chris blinked and the connection broke. He looked to the boy's champion, realizing that she was speaking to him. "Um, yes, Ma'm?" he answered, thrown by the unsettled feelings sparking inside. "Uh, Larabee. Chris Larabee."

"Well, Sgt. Larabee. How about you accompany our friend Vin Tanner here for a shopping trip?"

Chris stared at her a moment, surprised how things got this far so fast, and in the next second found himself nodding and reaching out to rest his hand on a very boney shoulder. It was like instinct made his body move.

"Wait, JD . . ." Vin's eyes reflected panic as they flicked between Nettie and Chris.

"Not a problem," Chris heard himself say. He felt the hardness of his face melt into a genuine smile as he drew the boy's eyes back to his own. "Got the perfect addition." He turned to call to Buck, but found his friend just a step behind and looking at him with an amused smirk. "You. Go with that one." Chris tipped his head sharply in JD's direction.

Buck glanced down and laughed as JD's eyes widened. "Just ignore this 'un, Little Bit. His bark's worse than his bite. I'm Buck." He held out his paw of a hand and the little boy's head tipped farther and farther back as he inspected the newcomer. Then, he reached out his tiny hand which was fully engulfed within Buck's as they shook. "Ready for some toys, JD?"

"Yeah!" The pair headed to the front doors and the Christmas in July Shop With A Cop event began. JD dragged Buck along while Chris and Vin followed in a more sedate manner, side by side, but with a span between them that marked the clear line of Vin's personal space.

Tanner wasn't compelled to talk much and glanced back often to make sure that . . . well, Larabee couldn't quite pinpoint why his kid seemed so suspicious of everything around him, but the boy's quiet way felt comfortable and the Sergeant appreciated it. Larabee allowed his charge to lead the way, noticing that Buck and his exuberant assignment never left Vin's line of sight for very long.

Several minutes passed before the first items made it to their shopping cart. Vin pulled the cart down the empty camping gear aisle where the boy tossed a small tent and a camouflage sleeping bag inside. Chris glanced down the packed main aisle and saw that Buck's cart was half full of brightly colored toys before they disappeared around a corner. Chris could hear JD's chatter above the rest, amazed that it still maintained an exuberant level. He turned his attention back to his car frowned when the next items hit the cart – hiking boots. Two pairs.

"Uhm, Vin?" Larabee said. He waited until the boys eyes met his, causing them to stop in mid aisle. Chris could hear happy laughter and delighted squeals from the other aisles. "Don't you want anything fun? Toys?"

Guarded blue eyes held is gaze as if the kid was debating how to reply. Spontaneity was not a trait Chris associated with Vin Tanner, and that idea increased Chris' curiosity about the boy.

"Okay," Vin finally replied rather sullenly.

Chris tipped his head toward the main aisle and Vin dropped back enough to walk by the Sergeant's side. This main aisle was crowded, but when they turned down the toy aisle, they ran into a roadblock of carts, uniforms, and kids picking through a vast wall of Legos, Hot Wheels and building sets. Although Larabee's mere presence magically create a path, Vin's distress resonated clearly with his suddenly stiff posture. Chris noticed immediately and he changed tack, finding Buck and JD in the press of people stopping his cart next to Buck's. Vin slithered from Chris' side between the two carts and placed himself at the front of the baskets, his back to the wire as he watched JD paw through the Hot Wheels.

"You think they'd never seen new toys before," Buck chuckled.

Delivered as an innocent statement, the words sent Chris' thoughts to a dark area that, for once, did not hold visions of his deceased wife and child. By JD's actions, Larabee believed the boy had toys at one time in his life, but Vin's way-of-being made Chris wonder on the truth of Buck's observation. Now, looking at the waif of a boy watch JD, there was just a hint of amusement in Vin's features and it was the first loss of wariness Chris witnessed.

"Vin?" Chris asked, causing the child to look his way. "Go ahead and pick out a Hot Wheels. It's fine. Do you like trucks?"

Chris then moved to Vin's side and, ignoring the boy's stiff posture on his arrival, rested his hand between the wings of shoulder blades easily felt under the thin shirt. Vin did not twitch or stiffen and graced Chris with a ghost of a smile, nodding once.

"Well," Chris started, turning his focus away from those huge eyes to the rack of cars. "Here's a red one. Looks like a Chevy. You like that?"

Vin studied the small vehicle for a moment before focusing the hanging vehicles. After a few seconds, he reached out tentatively and lifted a black pickup truck from a hook.

Buck snorted. "He's got your taste, boss."

Vin froze and raised his gaze to Chris, and Chris found himself smiling. "Looks like it," he agreed. "I have a truck just like that," he explained to the child.

Vin's shoulders relaxed and he held the truck close.

When their hour was up, the four of them checked out and left the store. Outside, volunteers labeled each item in permanent marker with the boys' names. Nettie appeared as the last item was tagged and gently rested a hand on a shoulder of each boy.

"Thank you, officers," she said, smiling up at them. "We'll take it from here. What do you say, boys?"

JD yelled "thank you!" while Vin uttered a quiet "thanks".

"You're welcome, Little Bit!" Buck replied, ruffling JD's hair

Chris smiled at Vin and nodded once, and then Nettie wrangled the pair toward the waiting school bus.

Chris found himself watching his charge until he was out of sight in the mob of kids boarding the bus. Buck nudged him to move and Chris shot him a glare.

"Well, looks like someone cracked that invisible wall," Buck laughed before walking away.

Chris frowned at his departing friend, wondering with irritation if Buck was right.

* * *

The next morning, a moderately unsettled Chris Larabee entered the sergeant's office to relieve the night shift sergeant and stopped dead when he saw the picture of a familiar face looking up at him from the watch commander's desk. The murmur of voices and the police radio faded to the background as his heart fluttered.

"What's this?" he demanded, cutting off the sergeant's verbal brief as he pointed at the photo.

"Missing kids at risk," Sgt. DeMarco replied while unbuckling his gun belt. "Looks like they ran away. Two of 'em. The BOLO came in about an hour ago."

"Vin Tanner and John Dunne."

DeMarco's brow arched. "You know them?"

"What?" Chris looked up from the photos. "No, well, sort of. I met them yesterday at the Shop With A Cop thing."

Surprise crossed DeMarco's face as he shrugged on a cover shirt over his uniform. "That's weird," he said. "There's not much to go on. They were discovered missing at morning bed check from two separate facilities."

"They're together," Chris said with enough certainty to make DeMarco pause.

"Maybe."

"Definitely. And I might know where they are, the area anyway." Chris collected the flyers, grabbed his patrol car keys, and left the office, striding past the briefing room.

"Hey!" Buck's voice carried from the room. "What about briefing?"

"Skip it. Buck, you're with me. Grab your car. Sanchez, Nate - head on out and cover the beat." Chris hit the exit door into the secured parking lot and Buck jogged to catch up.

"What's up?" Buck asked when he reached Chris' car. Chris shoved the boys' fliers into Bucks hand. "What's this . . . hey! It's those kids."

"Yeah, and I think I know where they are."

"You do? Did Vin here tell ya?"

Chris paused and looked at Buck. "Not exactly, but remember what Vin bought?"

Buck nodded, "Yeah, a tent, sleeping bag, boots . . . kinda weird."

Chris chuffed as he unlocked the Sergeant SUV. "Not if you plan on running away."

"That's true, I suppose, but where did they go?"

"The kid . . . Vin . . . lifted a map of local parks in the camping area of the store."

Buck thought about that a second. "The closest campground to his facility is Boulder Creek," he said.

"True, but the one closest to JD's facility is Tree Crest. There are several volunteers searching around the facility, so let's check the campground."

A humid blast of wind made the men shiver and Buck looked at the sky. "Well, where ever we search, hope we find 'em before that front moves in. They're predicting lots of rain and parts of Tree Crest are susceptible to flash floods."

"Then we better hurry." Chris slipped into the unit and fired it up.

* * *

The small tent shuddered with the wind's sudden onslaught. Vin, his head poking out from the light sleeping bag, snuggled closer to JD. He wished he got another sleeping bag, but he didn't want to explain why he needed two. They both fit inside one bag, but JD wiggled around a whole lot when he slept.

Vin scanned the interior of the tent, satisfied it wouldn't blow away, and noticed that he could see the outlines of the swaying trees. It was lighter outside, but muted with overcast skies. His stomach grumbled on cue. The biscuits he'd stolen from the center's kitchen were good, but they ate them all for dinner. A couple apples, a loaf of bread, and some funny smelling water from the campsite bathroom was all they had left and he figured it had to last another day or so. According to the map, there was a store a couple miles east, right on the route to the reservation. Once they reached their destination, he was sure they'd be okay. Vin felt the hard, sock full of coins tucked away under the sleeping bag; it was enough to get supplies at the store.

Vin thought it was smarter to pitch the tent away from any actual campsite, but the campground was full of summer campers anyway. After filling the canteens in the pre-dawn darkness, he'd dragged a tired, complaining JD deeper into the woods and put up their shelter against a rocky slope that had a nice, sandy base. Being the only flat spot large enough for the tent he could find in the dark, the curve of the slope protected them from the worst of the wind and Vin smiled at his luck for finding the spot.

The tent shuddered again and the wind whistled through the trees creating a soothing whisper that made Vin drowsy. He'd decided it was best to lay low today and start moving again at sunset when most people settled down. Keeping JD quiet and in one place wouldn't be easy, but the small boy usually did what Vin told him to do and there were some new toys to keep him busy. Vin couldn't imagine anyone cared enough to search for very long, anyway.

When the first light drops dotted the tent top Vin relaxed, sure that no one would search in the rain. With the comforting sound of gentle rainfall and JD's soft breathing, he drifted back to sleep.

* * *

"Are you sure about this, Chris?"

Buck and Chris, after studying the campground map posted at the entrance, picked a quadrant that would most likely appeal to the escapees. First, they checked every one of the campsites and spoke with the campers - due to the rainfall, a good majority was still on the grounds. Only the adventurous patrons were out hiking in the weather.

"I know they're here. I just have this feeling . . ." Chris scoured the forest edge with sharp eyes, looking for any hint, any clue. He refused to voice that in reality, he wasn't sure what direction to take.

Buck squinted skyward, tugging the hood of his rain gear lower on his forehead. "Well then, let's figure where they won't be first."

"The riverbed. It's overgrown and dry, but it's where the flooding would happen." Chris tipped his head aside and met Buck's troubled eyes.

"Well, it's where you and I wouldn't be, that's for sure, but maybe we'd best check there first?"

Chris nodded once and stepped onto the path leading to the riverbed. Somewhere inside he understood Buck's logic was why they were at that particular trailhead - his gut led them here, and he knew better than to ignore his instincts.

"At least it's not raining hard yet," he muttered as he walked.

"True, but you know it's heavier in the hills and that's where the flood water comes from. We don't have a lot of time."

Fear flared low in Chris' stomach. He knew that, too, but couldn't put the fear into words.

"Hell, this may all be some wild goose chase, right?" Buck, following his friend's footsteps, gave him a light hearted poke in the shoulder.

"Right."

Chris knew that wasn't true.

* * *

"Is it rainin'?" JD muttered as he rubbed his eyes and sat up.

"Yeah. It's getting a little harder." Vin handed his small friend an apple. "Here. Want some bread?"

JD frowned and pushed out of the sleeping bag. "I gotta go potty," he said. "Bad."

"Okay. Put your shoes on and you can pee just outside the tent door."

JD giggled at the idea and hurriedly poked his feet in the new boots while Vin unzipped the tent flap. He slipped on a tattered windbreaker with a hood and when Vin pushed it aside, a wet, earthy smell blew inside causing both of them to grin. It smelled a lot better than the County rooms.

"Ooo it smells like trees!" JD squealed when he stepped outside.

"Just don't let the wind blow your pee inside," Vin giggled.

JD glanced back at him, delighted. "Don't look at me!"

"I'm not watchin' you, I'm lookin' at the trees! Jeeze."

"I'm goin' over here." JD took two steps around the side of the tent and Vin soon heard the sound of JD's business hitting the rocky wall that curved around them. He knew the noise because he'd already done his business in the same place.

Vin smiled and admired the view outside the tent doors. Now that he could see, he saw that they sat in the curve of what looked like a dry riverbed, sitting on higher ground against a rocky cliff face. Beyond the rock-strewn sand, the woods seemed endless and there wasn't a person or vehicle in sight. The light patter of rain made the whole scene seem magical and Vin wished they didn't have to leave.

JD came around the corner and dropped clumsily onto his butt just inside the door way.

"Ew, you're all wet. Take that coat off."

JD did as he was told, stuffing the damp jacket into a corner of the tent. Next, he kicked off his boots and sat next to his friend to watch the rain while he ate his apple.

"We gotta move when it gets dark," Vin said quietly, reluctant to break the spell of the woods. "Luckily, the rain will keep anyone for lookin' very long, so we'll be safer moving at night."

"Can't we stay here longer?"

"No, we need to get more food. And when the rain stops, there's gonna be more hikers around here. We gotta move."

There were several long seconds of contemplative silence before JD spoke again.

"D'ya think anyone really cares enough to look for us?"

A thoughtful crease crossed Vin's forehead. "No, but they gotta make the effort to cover their own butts," he said wisely. "They'll stop after a while. We'll be on the reservation by then."

"Are there really horses there?"

"There were when I was there with my grandpa. I bet they are still there." Vin knew it had been a few years ago when his grandpa died, but hope was a bright spot in his mind. All he wanted was for things to be the way they were before his last family member died and the State stepped in after he and JD lived on the streets for awhile. He wasn't sure it was even the same reservation, but Vin decided that JD didn't need to know that; the boy trusted Vin, and Vin trusted him, and they wouldn't ever be separated again if Vin could help it.

"It's raining harder."

Vin listened a moment. "Yeah," he said slowly. Suddenly, his stomach felt funny, reminding him of how he felt when he visited a doctor. Unsettled, he stood and slipped on his jacket.

"Where're ya goin'?" JD asked.

"Nowhere." Vin stepped outside the tent door and concentrated on listening to the woods and rain.

"Look, there's a river now!" JD pointed at the line of brown, foamy water that followed the etched lines in the sand. Soon, it was a steady stream.

Something felt . . . off.

"JD, put on your boots and jacket," Vin said, staring upstream.

"Why? I just took 'em off!"

"I'll help you with your laces."

Vin broke his stare with a sense of doom and donned his boots and jacket then squatted down to ties JD's laces.

"Wow, the water growed."

Hurriedly working the bootlaces, Vin glanced aside and saw that the water was rising fast. Leaves and twigs rolled with the muddy current. "Grab the food, JD. We gotta go." JD darted inside and came out with their backpack of food and Vin started to collapse the tent.

"Vin?" JD sounded worried.

Vin turned around at the sound of a loud roar and saw that the water was only a foot away from their feet and there was no dry path out of the notch where they'd camped.

"Come on. Climb." Vin shoved the small boy to the rocky face and pushed him up. "Hurry, JD!"

Vin felt a rush of wind before he saw a wall of water barreling through the tangle of trees. The dry bed was now a rage of foam and branches and tore away their tent. Vin scrambled up behind JD, pressing the small boy between his chest and the cliff face.

"Keep going!" Vin screamed.

JD was eerily silent but Vin could hear him gasping for air. The roiling water sloshed over Vin's lower legs. One foot slipped.

"I can't hang on, Vin!"

"CLIMB!"

* * *

Their path led Chris and Buck to a rustic wood bridge that spanned a trickle of brown water.

"Guess that's usually dry," Buck said, mid-span. Chris stopped, looking down, and Buck stopped a few paces later on the far side. "What?" he said.

At that moment, their hand held radios crackled to life. "Flash flood watch for the County areas," the dispatcher reported. "All units be aware of road closures."

The two of them had heard that warning countless times in their career. The same roads always flooded, and there were always idiots that attempted crossing them. Someone always had to be rescued and the dispatcher's verbal warnings always caused annoyed grunts and rolled eyes from the officers.

This time, however, the warning raised alarms in Chris' gut. He charged across the bridge and turned south, following the creek bed. Buck opened his mouth to yell, but a distant rumble he'd hardly noticed had grown to a frightful roar.

Flash flood.

"CHRIS!" he yelled - but he was already out of sight. Buck immediately got on the radio. "Flash flood at Tree Crest County Park. Possible victims north of the camping area." He dashed after Chris without waiting for acknowledgement.

Chris crashed through the trees heading directly into the sound of chaos. The roar grew until it covered all other sounds, including his police radio ear bud. He was above the flow, on a winding ridge that contained it, but the noise of the rushing water was unexpectedly loud. Chris glanced at the opposite ridge and was shocked to see how fast the water rose. At one point, he heard something and stopped, panting hard. He tipped his head, straining to hear, and ripped out the ear bud to stop the radio chatter. There - a voice?

Chris pushed onward and a slower pace, concentrating on sound and scanning the opposite cliff face where the torrent continued to climb. He stopped again, hearing . . . crying?

Chris tipped his head to locate the noise when Buck joined him. Chris raised his hand and Buck frowned at him, silently wiping the rain from his face. Chris took another careful step, and then looked down.

"Watch the edge," Buck managed to get out before Chris dropped to his knees, then his stomach and reached over the cliff.

"Hold on!" Chris yelled. "I can't reach them, Buck! Rope!"

"What?" Buck leaned over Chris and looked down, where he saw two pale, frightened faces looking up at him. The water lapped at their heels, and the boys gasped and clung frantically to the rocks when a large branch brushed against their legs. "Aw, hell! Dispatch? We need ropes now! There are two kids trapped by the flood! The ranger is closest - "

"I'm at the park entrance," Officer Sanchez's voice instilled calm, and Buck was momentarily relieved that he was the one responding. "Where are you?"

"Follow the creek path by space 7, cross the bridge, turn left." Buck was distracted by Chris, who was removing his gun belt. "What are you doing?"

Without answering, Chris backed over the crest and lowered himself over the edge. "I'm helping them hang on." He disappeared from sight.

Buck dropped onto his belly and peered down; even though the rain had stopped, the water continued to rise. Chris was to the right of the two boys, and luckily, the slope of the cliff face wasn't as severe as other areas, and there was a good selection of large rocks to hang on to.

The water battered the boys' feet. Chris reached down and initiated a wrist to wrist grip with the smaller child against the rocks. "Come on, just a little higher and you can rest," he said evenly. The boy - JD, Chris recalled - was shivering and terrified to near catatonia. "Come on, JD. Just a few feet."

He pulled and JD finally responded with a gasp, his cold fingers clutching Chris' forearm as far as his fingers could reach. The boy managed about three feet, clearing his feet from the water to find a good rock to anchor himself. "Got it?" Chris asked before letting go.

JD just blinked, terror clear in his eyes.

"I have to help Vin now, JD. You're safe here if you hang on. You need both hands. You hear me?"

JD just shivered and clung to Chris' arm with one hand while the other hugged the rock.

"Hey, JD! Up here!" Buck called in a firm voice. "You're fine where you are, Little Bit. Can you look at me please?" Finally, the boy cautiously looked up and Chris freed his hand. "There ya go! Easier to hang on with two hands, right?"

Chris quickly climbed down until his legs were even with Vin's torso. With JD on the rock, there was no place for Vin to go, and Chris frantically worked to come up with a plan. "Hey, Vin," he said, looking over his shoulder at the wiry boy. Without JD under him, Vin pressed against the cliff face like a stubborn tick, but Chris knew he was wearing out. He could see the boy's muscles trembling and he was breathing hard and shivering.

The water surged and rose to Vin's knees. Chris instantly reacted by reaching down and grabbing Vin's collar. "Hang on, son," Chris breathed, feeling his position slip. The water crept higher. Chris tugged and Vin edged sideways until he pressed against Chris' side.

"Hang on, Chris! Almost there!"

The sound of Josiah's voice renewed Chris' grip on the wet jacket. Vin moaned. Chris felt the tiny body quivering against him, and then he felt it slip. "No!" he growled, readjusting his hand so it looped under the boy's shoulder. "You aren't going anywhere, you hear me?"

Vin's breathing became labored. Chris felt the water soaking his feet. "No. . ." he snarled again.

"CHRIS! To your left!"

Chris felt a rope brush his left shoulder. He couldn't grab it and keep his grip on the rock, and he couldn't let go of the boy.

"I'm coming down!" Buck yelled as Chris felt loose rock slide along his left side.

Chris focused everything he had on the child in his grasp. He looked down and met terrified, exhausted blue eyes and knew he would save this boy or die trying.

Another surge struck Vin, lifting his body from the cliff face.

Chris held on to him and felt his grip on the rocks loosen.

"Chris! Hang on! Chris!"

In the next second he fell, his grip on the child's bicep tight when the plunge into icy water stole his breath.

TBC


	2. Part Two

**Shop With a Cop**

**By AJB**

**Part Two**

"NO!" Buck choked off his shout when he saw the small boy tremble. "It's okay, JD. I gotcha." Trying to stay calm for the child, it took focused intent to keep his voice calm as he lowered himself to JD's side.

"We're good here, Buck. Grab him." Officer Sanchez's voice helped Buck focus.

Buck drew in the shivering child and spoke encouragingly until JD's grip on the rocks loosened, then he engulfed the child in a desperate bear hug. "Hang on. You're okay." Only then did he dare to look downstream at the rushing water. There was no sign of Chris nor Vin, and Buck's heart twisted.

Once over the edge of the ravine, Nate Jackson pried JD from Buck's desperate grasp. Buck collapsed in the mud, emotionally spent, for several seconds before Sanchez's mountainous form leaned over and extended an arm.

"Come on, Buck, we gotta check downstream. Weather's keepin' the chopper grounded so it's up to us. There are units posted at the cross streets to the south, outside the park."

Accepting the arm, Buck pulled himself to his feet and Sanchez shoved a dry towel in his hands. "Did . . . did you see them?"

Sanchez hesitated, giving Buck an evaluating look. "Yeah. Last I saw, Chris had the kid against his chest and he was on his back, legs pointed downstream."

"Like we trained. Let's hope it saves him. Them," Buck quickly corrected, glancing to the sobbing JD who called for his friend between gulps of air while tolerating Nathan's exam. "Come on. I can't stand to listen to that much longer."

Sanchez gave him a warm smile. "Understood all too well, brother. Let's go."

Buck knew perfectly well that Josiah Sanchez realized that his reluctance was sorrow based; Buck liked kids and it nearly broke his heart to hear JD's wails. Wiping his face with the towel, they jogged to their respective patrol cars, leaving Nathan with the paramedics and their terrified patient.

* * *

The power of rushing water astounded Chris. He struggled to keep his and Vin's faces out of the vicious pull just enough to get air, gasping like landed fish at every opportunity. Keeping the boy cocooned in his grip gave him little reserves to use in getting to shore, so he concentrated on keeping his legs downstream and their faces out of the water.

Chris felt like a punching bag. All manner of things crashed into his body, and when something hit his head, he saw stars. At one point, they ricochet off a cliff face and tumbled like a lopsided pinwheel, completely submerged, and it was the longest span of seconds Chris ever endured when he fought to reach the surface again.

Exhausted, his focus of awareness narrowed dangerously to a point where all that was real was Vin's weight against his chest and the racing heartbeat under his arms - he would save this boy; there was no other option.

Chris forced his gaze downstream and concentrated on their curvy, watery course. Trees hung over them from rocky mud walls, so thick that no one could be following their path. "_There has to be a break soon,"_ Chris reasoned, hanging on to consciousness with sheer determination. His head throbbed. A leafy, spinning bough raked one cheek and bounced painfully from his shoulder. Chris kicked his legs in an effort to get to one side of the stream, at least grateful that he still felt his legs. His other shoulder rapped a boulder and he yelped as the world darkened.

_"__No! I can't. . ." _Blinking to clear his vision, Chris saw where a space the walls sloped down and the bank opened up - it was coming up fast. He moved without thinking, twisting their bodies in an alligator roll and kicked his legs. Sputtering, his hip suddenly hit ground in shallower water and Chris tightened his grip on Vin while digging his heels in the mud and rock. Just as he felt his cheek on the muddy shore and he shoved the boy onto the precarious band of beach, a sharp, blinding pain exploded in one leg and all went dark.

The sudden push from Chris broke Vin's grip and he flung his arms out and clawed the muddy shore, scrambling for solid ground as the current battered his legs. Once free of the rushing water, Vin, gasping painfully, scrambled away on shaky hands and knees.

Free, Vin flopped down onto his side and gagged, heaving water from his nose and mouth. Gulping mouthfuls of air, he pushed to a sit and scanned the torrent, oblivious to the light rain, and saw a body caught on a partially submerged tree trunk, half out of the water with one arm stretched onto the bank.

It was Chris. With a frightened sob, Vin crawled to the man that saved him. Foamy water swirled around Chris' hips as the torrent trapped him against octopus tangle of exposed roots, the banks' shallowness turning away the full rage of the water from the still form. Vin sat back hard onto his butt and scooted alongside his rescuer, his heels dug into the mud under the shallow water. Now that he was closer, Vin could see the bruises blooming under the cold, pale skin of Chris' face, neck, and chest.

Without a second thought, Vin braced his trembling legs and leaned forward at the waist, willing his wiggling fingers to snag the sodden uniform shirt. Once latched on, he pulled, grunting, and the body came his way. Vin managed to float Chris' torso clear of the water, but that was as far as he could manage the limp body.

Only then did the thought cross his mind that Chris could be dead. A zing of terror shot up his spine, but he only gave a second's pause before patting the still man's chest to look for a heartbeat. Finding none, panic swelled but it was cut short when he saw the edge of a bullet proof vest. Vin's cold fingers worked awkwardly, but he finally got the uniform shirt unbuttoned enough to work out how to release the vest and slide his palm underneath where he felt a reassuring beat. Pulling back, Vin took a breath to calm his nerves before leaning over again to lift a pale eyelid.

The black of Larabee's eye shrank with the light and his cheek twitched. Vin released the eyelid and gently patted Chris' cold cheek. "Please wake up?" he croaked. "Please?" Finally, a reaction to his desperate pleas made Vin's heart race. Chris groaned and rolled his head aside, and Vin sagged, eyes hot and burning. "Mr. Chris?"

Chris' eyes worked beneath the vein-lined lids, which then fluttered open. He groaned again, flailed his arms to find support and issued a sharp hiss when he rolled to his side. Chris blinked a few times before his eyes focused enough to track the length of Vin's form. He lifted his chin and connected with Vin's eyes, and the boy felt a fuzzy warmth roll through him as their gazes locked.

"Vin?" Chris croaked. "You okay?"

Vin could only nod, his throat clenched too tight to speak.

"Help me." Chris' arms moved to pull himself from the water, but he stopped with a gasp.

"What?" Vin managed to squeak, hands full of Chris' shirt in his attempt to help.

"Leg," Chris growled. "Might be broke."

Vin looked down and saw that Chris only used one leg to dig into the mud. The other floated at the mercy of the tide.

"What do I do?"

Chris found Vin's eyes again and offered a tight grin. "It's all right, son. Just help me out."

Working together, Chris managed to get to the muddy shore and Vin helped him to sit up. Chris, gripping his right thigh with both hands, maneuvered the leg until it laid straight and then used his good leg, arms and Vin's encouragement to scoot far away from the water's edge and under the canopy of trees.

"I think that's far enough," Chris breathed. "Don't think the water will reach us here." He tipped his head, breathing hard, and gave Vin an evaluating scan. "You okay?"

Vin nodded, the mop of his hair quivering around his face in watery dreads. "JD?" he whispered, voice raw with fear.

"Buck got him in time."

Vin searched Chris' face and then nodded once, convinced it was true. Chris scanned around damp woods, the smell of wet leaves and earth a welcome change but the lack of any other people disappointing. He checked his pockets, not surprised to find them empty after the tossing they'd received. He snorted - as if a cell phone would work after such a dunking, anyway.

"Guess we're gonna be hard to find, huh?"

Chris raised his brows at the question that was in the same vein as his own thoughts. "Well, guess we just have to make it easier to be found, then." For the first time, Chris saw a genuine smile from the small boy and he returned the gesture. Then, he gasped as pain erupted from his leg.

Chris squeezed his thigh between his hands and spoke through clenched teeth, trying to remain calm for the boy's sake. "Need to immobilize my leg first," he managed. He felt more than saw Vin's puzzlement. "Keep it still. Brace it. Find some branches to splint my leg."

When he did look to Vin, he saw understanding dawn. "I'll look around."

"I'll wait here." He gave Vin a reassuring smile and saw the boy relax with a nod before turning to inspect the area.

Chris was grateful the trees protected them from sprinkles, but he knew that could change at any moment based on what he recalled from the weather reports. They still had a good half-day of light, bettering the odds of being found prior to night fall but Chris had to decide what to do: stay put or find open ground? Rugged terrain made up this part of the park and any cross roads visible to traffic were miles away. Chris scanned the trees, noting the tight canopy and steep hills surrounding them, then consulted the map in his brain before concluding that rescue was not imminent. They had to move to higher ground, away from the canyon shadows, and find a break in the trees.

He also knew it was going to hurt like hell. Already, it was difficult to think and he was sitting still.

"How are these?" Vin returned dragging a half-dozen branches, being careful they didn't bump Chris.

Chris looked at the collection and realized he had a better option. He pulled off his belt and began removing his shirt. "New plan. I need a crutch."

Vin regarded the branches. "These are too wobbly but saw good crutch ones over there." He pointed back along his path.

"Good. Hang on a second and you can take me over there."As soon as Chris tugged his vest off, Vin caught on and helped Chris wrap the stiff material around his lower leg. The boy held it tight while Chris wrapped his belt around the bundle and cinched it down with a grimace. Then he added the Velcro straps that came with the vest.

"I'm sorry," Vin whispered. His hands started to shake and Chris felt the tremble through the vest.

"No need to apologize, Vin," Chris breathed. "Just wish I was bigger 'round so the belt could do a few more wraps." The comment coaxed a weak smile from the boy. Chris winked. "Us skinny guys have to stick together."

As it was, the leather mostly surrounded the area directly above the break and the webbed strapping secured above and below. Chris thought a moment then pulled off his T- shirt and tore it into long strips, showing Vin how to wrap the rest of the makeshift splint and secure the Velcro tighter. The final product turned out better than Chris hoped.

Still hurt like a bitch, though.

"Okay, now, let's make a crutch." Chris pulled on his damp, chilly uniform shirt and hoped it would dry at least a little. As slight as Vin was, Chris realized the kid needed to get moving to stay warm. The slight shiver was difficult to ignore.

Once they fashioned a knobby wood crutch, Chris struggled to his feet using it and Vin for balance. He set the crutch and nodded in the direction away from the rushing river. He and Vin stepped off, side by side, in search of an open spot.

After an hour or so, the river behind them and out of sight, Chris stopped to rest. His leg and head throbbed painfully and the makeshift crutch was far from comfortable, causing a raw sore under his arm. Chris panted and felt a line of sweat around his hairline but Vin looked like he was taking to the excursion quite well. At least he wasn't shivering anymore and stood sniffing the wind with a frown. Chris leaned against a tree and slid down to sit, his wrapped leg sticking out in front.

"Smell that?" the boy asked quietly.

Chris tested the wind and picked up the scent, too. "Fire. Must be a hunting cabin."

Vin's evaluating head to toe scan of Chris almost made the Sergeant laugh, but he was to sore and tired to bother.

"I'll check it out. You stay here."

"What? No. We stay together," Chris insisted.

"You can't even get up," Vin said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I won't get out of your sight."

Chris glared at the boy, who didn't even flinch. Vin's frown deepened. Chris had to admit the boy was right, but he just didn't like the idea of a child wandering alone in the woods. This was the thickest part of the forest in the Park, and had the steepest hills. It was rugged country.

"I won't go beyond those rocks," Vin added, pointing at a huge boulder jutting out from a nearby hill.

Chris had to admit defeat. "All right then," he agreed. "No farther."

Vin took a breath and walked away with the longest strides his legs could handle. Chris followed his progress, holding his breath each time the boy was out of his sight while crossing a valley or crevasse. Finally, he had to smile when he saw the small figure scramble up the hill and climb the boulder as if he did it every day. He watched as Vin searched the terrain then suddenly drop flat on the boulder, intent on something beyond the crest of the hill.

When Vin first saw the origin of the smoke, his hopes soared. At the far end of his visual field, he saw a faint curl of silver-grey rising from a rustic, wooden cabin. When the figure of a man stepped through the weathered door, Vin almost called out, but it was the clear shape of the gun tucked in the man's waistband that silenced him. Vin dropped flat on the boulder, heart racing as he studied the man.

The guy wasn't a hunter. He was big and wore a button-down white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, dress pants, and was stalking back and forth in front of the structure with an outstretched arm, intent on something in his hand. Vin recognized the movements of someone trying to find a cell phone signal, and he waited patiently until the man stalked angrily out of sight and away from the steep slopes on either side of the tiny cabin.

Vin slid from the boulder and headed straight to the building. Once close enough, he listened for other occupants, unwilling to show himself. He did not like the feeling of the one that left.

The small cabin had one little window that was placed too high for Vin to look inside, so he edged up to the door that was standing slightly ajar and peeked inside.

There was only one room in the cabin. A pot bellied stove, the source of the smoke, was tucked in one stone-lined corner and there was one cot-like bed and a small table. Vin poked his head in and saw only one chair, and it had a bloodied and rumpled man duct taped firmly to the arms and legs. Vin's eyes widened.

The captive slowly raised his chin and blinked his one working eye in Vin's direction. The other eye was purple and swollen shut and the man's clothes, clearly expensive, were ripped, dirty and extremely disheveled. His hands, dangling from the end of the chair's arms, looked puffy and his breathing, labored as it was expelled between puffy lips. Dried blood marked a line from one nostril to one corner of his mouth.

Vin stared.

The man frowned, puzzled, before speaking with a pained lisp. "Well, now. With whom do I have the pleasure of meeting in such a disagreeable situation?"

The man did his best to straighten up with a wince and spoke with slow difficulty. Vin still discerned an accent.

"Please excuse my unpardonable appearance, young man. My present situation leaves little opportunity to maintain my normal mode of appearance. Ezra P. Standish at your service."

The man's words were slurred. Vin felt off kilter hearing such fancy language coming from a wreck of a man. "Vin," he replied after a moment just before stepping inside the cramped room.

"A pleasure to meet you, Master Vin. Please excuse my inability to shake hands."

Vin stood still, giving the man a sidelong look. "You talk funny."

"Ah, yes, I understand why you may think that, but before we embark on a session in which to we may get better acquainted, I must warn you that a rather unpleasant miscreant shall be re-appearing at any moment. If you help me extricate myself from this deplorable situation, I would be eternally grateful."

"How'd you get here?" Vin asked as he scanned the room again, looking for anything that would help him and Chris.

"There is a utility vehicle a short distance from here which would be a lovely hike, I am sure, under vastly different circumstances. The, um, gentleman - and I use that moniker with the deepest reservations - that stepped away has the keys in his possession. I do believe I can convince him to lend us the purveyance, but I will need my hands free."

Vin studied the man again, and then sidestepped to grab two bottles of water and a pair of energy bars from the table before heading for the door to leave.

"Vin, my boy, hold on there . . ." the man started, the formal edge of his words taking on panic.

"He's back," Vin whispered as he slipped outside and melted into the trees. From a safe distance, he watched as the big man rounded the edge of the structure and step inside. The burly stranger did not look happy and Vin felt a spark of fear in his belly. Would the fancy man say something?

He scrambled back the way he came and had a guilty moment when he saw Chris' shoulder slump in relief when he came into sight.

"Don't ever -" Chris started. Vin shushed him into silence and handed over one energy bar and bottle of water. Surprised, Chris raised his brows for an explanation.

"There's a hunting cabin, like you said," Vin started, his voice low as he described what he saw.

When Vin was finished, Chris, thinking hard, scanned the area and regretted dropping his service belt before climbing down to rescue the boys. All his weapons were on that belt - except for the survival knife in his boot. At least he had that because, instinctively, he knew things had just gotten impossibly worse.

TBC

_A/N: I apologize for the posting delay. Wildfires and far-flung family kept me busy for a bit! - AJB_


	3. Part Three

**Shop With A Cop**

**By AJB**

**Part Three**

Josiah pinned one corner of a creased map to a corkboard propped up haphazardly in the cargo area of the Police Department SUV. His huge palm covered most of the map while he pinned the other corner. "Here's where we are, and here's where the posted units have reported in." He pointed to six various points on the river's path depicted by a wavy blue line. "These officers and firefighters have good sight pictures on these crossroads. They haven't seen anything yet, and they report that the main rush of water has passed. The water level is closer to normal, which is good, but that can change at anytime according to the weather reports in the mountains."

"We also have a half a day of daylight and it's summertime, so there is less worry for hypothermia - don't mean it can't still happen, though," Nathan added. Standing beside Josiah Sanchez, he surveyed the assembly of rescue workers. "We have to careful and not rush. They could be anywhere."

"When will the river rescue crew launch?"

"Soon. They're gearing up now that the river seems to be calm at the moment." Josiah's finger drew a large circle over an area south of their location. "This is where we come in. This is an area of thick trees and steep terrain. The river makes many turns through here and they could have beached in any number of areas, or been caught in eddies of current any where through here. The river patrol will check the parts that are inaccessible by foot. We have the rest. We will make two long lines on either side of the river and try to cover every inch along the riverbed. There's another group starting from the first crossroad and heading our way. Questions?"

After a few seconds of silence, the volunteers started talking amongst themselves.

"Okay, then. Let's move - check in with the team leaders at the bridge for your assignments. Dismissed."

The large group moved south as Josiah and Nathan turned together and headed to the Park office. Nathan pushed open the door, causing a brass bell on the inside of the door to peal. He winced when he spied Buck sitting in a desk chair, cradling the small boy in his lap. JD was obviously asleep, his one visible cheek flushed and tear stained.

"Sorry," Nathan whispered when Buck lifted his eye and their gazes met. Buck eyes were bloodshot and wide with sorrow as he gently rocked the chair. "When's that County lady supposed to get here?"

"Soon," Buck said softly. One hand stroked JD's dark hair. "Her name's Mrs. Wells. Look out for her, will ya? I'm not movin'."

It was more than offsetting to see the normally laughing and jovial Wilmington so morose. Choosing not to dwell on the reason for his partner's mood downturn, Officer Jackson turned his mind to the job at hand. "I'll let 'em know," he said.

"What are the chances of findin' them, Josiah?" Buck directed the question to Sanchez, who once led the Department's Search and Rescue team.

"We got time and weather mostly on our side," the big officer replied, his eyes locked with Buck's as he spoke so Sergeant Larabee's longtime friend could see that he spoke truthfully. "And it's summer. All good things." Buck just stared at him expectantly. Josiah sighed, and then said, "50/50. That's taking Chris past rough-water rescue training and SEAL experience into account. Plus, he's fit."

Buck ducked his head and nodded once. "Then get to it, boys. I don't want to disappoint this little one again."

Nathan exchanged a glance with Josiah. "It wasn't your fault, Buck," Jackson said softly.

"You c'n keep tellin' me that, Nate," Buck said softly. "Maybe I'll believe it one day. Hope I do, anyway."

Nodding, Officers Jackson and Sanchez slipped out of the office to join the search.

* * *

Chris found it difficult to think now that pain awakened in his body. He knew by the way Vin walked that the boy was hurting, but Vin's only reply remained, "I'm fine," and he wouldn't allow Chris to inspect him too closely.

Not wanting to get involved with whatever was going on at the hunting cabin because of his small charge, Chris made the decision to find the SUV and take it from there. Vin issued a silent nod and helped Larabee to his feet.

Every part hurt but Chris managed to work through the body aches and throbbing, bone-deep pain radiating from his leg as they unlikely pair worked their way around the cabin and followed a probable path that could lead to the vehicle. After an hour or so, Chris braced against a tree to rest. Vin scouted ahead, keeping just within his sights. Their ragged path loosely paralleled the deep valley floor leading from the shack and headed toward the nearest fire break. Chris reasoned it was the only possible way to get a vehicle in here; if they didn't come across it in this valley, then the SUV had to be on the fire break itself, a wide path carved by tractor that gave brush fire rigs access to the area.

This routine set in with Chris' tree hopping rest stops. Finally, Chris spied the fire break between the trees and as he leaned painfully against a gnarly pine, the real worry about the armed man became his prime concern. Chris didn't want to cross paths with that unknown element.

"I found it," Vin whispered on his return from scouting ahead. "It's just up ahead."

"Great," Chris replied, fitting the abrasive crutch to his raw armpit. "No one around it?"

Vin shook his head.

"How are you feelin', Cowboy?" Chris asked, holding Vin's gaze so he wouldn't duck his head.

After chewing his lip for a moment, Vin finally admitted, "I'm a little sore but I c'n keep goin'."

"Really?"

"Really."

Chris knew the boy was telling the truth, so with a sigh and a quick, reassuring pat to Vin's shoulder, Chris hobbled the last stretch with Vin at his side. It wasn't long until he saw a faded red Bronco parked under a thick section of forest canopy and in the middle of heavy brush, making it invisible from the air and the plowed fire break. His hopes elevated - not only was it a slightly lifted 4X4 and looked well cared for, it was pre-1990's which meant he could hot-wire it easily.

Then it struck him - could he drive it with this leg? When they arrived at the driver's door and Chris peered in, a groan escaped him before he could choke it back.

"What?" Vin said looking, suddenly, on alert like a rabbit ready to run.

"It's a stick," Chris said. "Don't think I can handle it like this." He nodded to his leg. After beat of silence, he said. "Our best bet is to get to the middle of the fire break and look for rescue helicopters." He eyed the low ceiling and chose to keep his doubt smothered.

Clearly, Vin wasn't fooled. "The guy in the cabin can drive," he suggested after a time.

"No. Not happening. I don't know anything about them or that situation - it's too dangerous." Every part of his body throbbing in pain, Chris turned and was about to direct Vin to the fire break when, suddenly, a trio of birds burst from a bush at the sound of breaking branches. "Get under the car," Chris ordered harshly, pushing Vin down and staying hidden behind the truck until the pair of tiny boots disappeared. Chris then craned his neck until he could see in the direction of the noise while his fingers traced down his pant leg, lifted the edge, and removed his survival knife.

It wasn't the first time he'd brought a knife to a gun fight, but he wasn't a busted up in those times, either. The other hand gripped the crutch for extra back up he hoped he wouldn't need.

He heard a man's voice swearing before the subject stepped into sight, wearing the clothes Vin described earlier. The man swatted at his head with one hand and regarded a cell phone in the other as he grumbled, obviously not a fan of the outdoors. Chris' mouth quirked at the state of the man's pants and shoes as he gripped the knife tighter.

Larabee waited patiently, hoping the man would simply leave, but as the minutes passed and the man zigzagged all around and turned circles in the space between them, the sergeant realized that if there wasn't a cell signal here, the next step would be to drive to the top of the ridge. Additionally, Vin was right - there was a silver automatic tucked in at the man's waistline.

When the stranger moved in the direction of the Bronco, Chris hunkered down and concentrated on the approaching footsteps. His heartbeat strengthened, edging out pain, and he prepared to attack.

As soon as the man rounded the front of the vehicle, Chris pushed off with a growl.

* * *

Vin knew the importance of stillness and silence. He'd learned long ago how to ignore all else to remain undetected - the sting of dry sticks, the poke of sharp rocks, the smell of gasoline and rubber - and to use all his senses to find trouble before it found him.

Chris must have learned the same lessons because he was as still as Vin - waiting, focused on the cadence of footsteps coming their way.

The speed at which Larabee attacked surprised the boy. From his vantage point, he saw dancing feet scrambling for purchase and heard frightening gasps and grunts as the two men collided and struggled. A hard thump shook the vehicle just before the pair hit the ground.

Vin gasped, unable to stop a twitch of fear. He gripped the ground, holding fistfuls of dirt, dry grass and pebbles as he watched the fight, unable to tear his eyes away.

He saw Chris' arm around the stranger's neck as Larabee clung to his opponent's back with his good leg clamped over kicking thighs. They rolled away and Vin caught a glance of Chris' face - a frightening mask of sheer determination and exhaustion. The urge to do something, anything, to help his friend drove the boy from under the SUV, rocks slicing his knuckles and knees as he crawled out.

Vin circled to the fighting side and froze, uncertain. The two men rolled again and then broke apart. Chris arched back, pushing off the ground with one hand while gripping a knife with the other. His opponent scrambled to his feet, then reached for the gun, and Vin knew instantly that Chris would be too late.

The man pulled the weapon free and brought it up.

Vin yelled, drawing the shooter's attention his way, and when angry eyes found him, Vin threw the two handfuls of dirt he didn't realize he held right in the man's face.

The stranger staggered back a step, and Vin heard a hollow thump just before the man slumped against the vehicle, gurgling, and sunk to the ground slowly, knees akimbo. Vin saw the hilt of a knife sticking out from the base of his throat. Blood streamed down his chest in twin trails as he took two choking breaths and then seemed to collapse into himself.

Chris crawled to the downed figure and watched it twitch a few times before growing still. Panting, he lay on his side and reached over, removing the gun from the stranger's lax hand before falling back to stare at the sky.

Unable to find words, Vin's shaking legs and wobbling knees resulted in a less than straight path to Chris' side and once there, the boy knelt down. "C. . . Chris?" He finally managed to choke out, concerned. The sergeant's eyes slid closed and he relaxed onto the ground. "Chris?" Vin shook his shoulder, getting no response.

Vin's heartbeat stuttered in fear and he fell back onto his butt, fighting the urge to scuttle away like a crab. Instead, he forced his eyes to stay on his friend, relieved when he saw that Chris still breathed.

"Help," Vin whispered.

Finally tearing his gaze away, he looked around and confirmed that they were alone. Vin pushed to his feet and sidestepped to the path made by the newcomer. He stood for a moment, confirming that the man was not breathing he turned his back and started for the cabin. Three steps away, he paused, turned back, and headed directly to the dead man, swallowing his fear when he realized he had to touch it - him.

The urge to run nearly overwhelmed him as he stood over the bloody figure. Vin felt like he was in a dream or under water; he only heard a faint buzz and everything seemed cloaked in eerie fog. He saw a hand - his hand - reach for the knife hilt and barely felt its stickiness when his fingers wrapped around the cold metal. The first tug made the body twitch, and the second, adrenalin fueled tug freed the blade so abruptly that Vin stumbled back a couple of steps.

The body didn't move. Fat, black flies hovered over the blood.

Vin turned and ran toward the cabin.

_TBC_

_A/N: On vacation for two weeks! I apologize in advance for the delay! Thanks for all the feedback and comments - every word is appreciated and pushes me onward! - AJB_


	4. Part Four

Shop With A Cop

By AJB

Part Four

Ezra Standish could not feel his fingers anymore. His eye stung, his shoulder throbbed, and he generally ached all over, but the state of his custom tailored suit trousers and silk shirt is what hurt the most. Yes, he knew there was a chance he could die this day, and he damned the individual that would be responsible for his being an untidy corpse.

He chuckled at the audacity of his thoughts and then gasped when pain's daggers dug its steely knives deeper into his temples. He slammed his eyes - eye - shut and stilled, riding the sharp sensation to its lowest level. He released a hissing breath.

"Courage, Ezra," he muttered softly. "At least the cretin placed the jacket aside." He turned a bleary eye its direction and his heart stuttered when he saw the same small boy from before standing wide-eyed and silent in the doorway. "Oh! Hello again. Master Vin, wasn't it?" Hope raised its glorious head and Standish's brain kicked into gear. He schooled is expression into one of friendliness, wondering how he actually appeared to the child.

They studied each other for long seconds, Vin as still as a statue and Ezra trying not to appear desperate.

"I need help," Vin finally said.

"I can help you," Ezra replied, cringing inside at the speed of his offer. "I mean, I would truly like to help you, but as you can see, my movement is limited at the moment." Ezra wiggled his fat, tingling fingers.

The boy tipped his head as if in thought and then broke eye contact to study Ezra from head to toe.

"Although it is wise to examine this situation closely, my young man, I must remind you that our time may be limited. Perhaps the knife on the table will suffice in cutting these bonds?" Standish lifted his chin to indicate the location of an item.

Vin glanced at the tabletop then raised the hand that gripped Chris' knife.

"Good Lord, is that blood?" Standish choked, heart suddenly racing. The boy's fist and the frightening, serrated knife were shiny red. Vin walked toward him and an unwelcome vision of Norman Bates, Janet Leigh and a shower flew through his mind. "Mr. Tanner! What are your intentions?" Ezra managed to press back into the sturdy chair as far as he could and squared his shoulders.

Vin stopped, clearly puzzled, and then glanced to the knife. "I'm cuttin' you loose." Then, he turned his eyes to the captive and that's when Ezra saw fear in the boy's eyes. "Will you help me? If I cut you loose?"

Standish's body relaxed as he released a relieved breath. "Certainly, my boy, but you better hurry . . ."

"That other man won't be back," Vin said in an odd, flat way as he approached Ezra and started sawing on the tape holding Ezra's left hand.

Standish saw that Vin's eyes swam with banked tears. The kid was on an emotional edge.

"Is that so?" Ezra kept his voice low to keep from spooking his only chance of release. He paused, weighing the wisdom of his next question. "Did you - use the knife on him?"

Unkempt locks swept back and forth when Vin shook his head, his eyes locked on his task. "No," he whispered in a raspy voice. "Chris did."

"I see." _The Neanderthal that brought me here was Wilmont. Wherever did this Chris come from? Or this boy, for that matter? _

Standish twisted his wrist from the cut duct tape and he hissed after losing a large patch of arm hair. Vin stepped back and froze, and then huge ocean blue eyes snapped to Ezra's face.

"Don't go! I apologize. I did not expect . . . well, it hurt a little but I am all right." _This child is rather skittish. I must be careful. _Ezra smiled. "I did not mean to scare you. I apologize."

Their gazes held for a quiet span of time and Standish saw the wheels begin to turn behind a pair of eyes that seemed older than they should be. Ezra maintained a mild expression, not allowing the shock of recognition to show on his features; He'd seen the same shadow of maturity in his own eyes at a much younger age. A sympathetic smile came easier than he thought it would.

"Shall we finish this dance, young sir, so I may reconnoiter the situation outside?"

Vin blinked, breaking the spell, and frowned. "What?"

Ezra chuckled. "If you would please free me, I will see what is going on outside."

"Oh." Vin stepped forward again and position the blade on Ezra's the other wrist.

Standish hesitated a moment, then slowly reached his free hand over and took the knife handle between his fingers just in front of Vin's. "Let me. I do not want you injured." Vin released the knife after a second and took a step back, absently wiping his bloody hand on his jeans and leaving a dark spot behind.

"Sergeant Larabee's hurt," Vin said. His raw voice trembled a little.

Luckily, Standish's attention was on his wrist at the time and Vin didn't see the flash of surprise that Ezra felt. _Good Lord, a law enforcement officer is out there? I am forced from the frying pan into the fire thanks to you, Mother! _He continued sawing at the tape as his mind calculated and plotted. "So, young man, why aren't other officers helping this Sergeant? Surely, they know where he . . . you are."

"We fell in the river. Chris saved me."

Those unnerving eyes swelled again with tears and Ezra had to give the boy points for not allowing them to fall. He swallowed back a rise of feeling for the child, silently chastising himself for the weakness of emotion and, instead, concentrated on cutting through the tape. It was loose now, and he rolled his wrist from the silver strip, moving a little slower this time. He silently gritted his teeth with the slow rip of pain from the crude depilatory.

Releasing his legs was painless, save for the hurt of seeing decent trousers fouled in such an obscene manner. Once free, Ezra rose slowly, feeling every ache, pain, and bruise inflicted on his body. He refused to groan.

Vin watched him with growing caution clear in his body language. It was extremely distracting for Standish to focus on an escape plan under the child's continued examination; he had no doubt that the diminutive Tanner was a learned observer, just as he was. Ezra knew he had to control his every expression.

With a final stretch, Standish allowed a groan to escape, and mentally patted his own back when he saw Vin's eyes lose some of their wary edge.

"Well, then," Ezra said as he shuffled forward. "Let us evaluate the situation, shall we?"

"Chris needs help."

"Yes, you said that." _And I need to separate myself from this entire situation. "_Lead on, Master Tanner."

With one last head tilted glance, Vin turned and headed to the door, disappearing outside. Once out of sight, Ezra quickly headed to the sink and snatched a small derringer from where his kidnapper had tossed it away, and tucked it in his jacket pocket. Then he lifted the coat, draped it over his arm with a loving stroke, and stepped, blinking, into the wild out-of-doors.

"Good Lord. What an ungodly time of day," he muttered as he followed his rescuer. When his eyes finally adjusted to the brightness, he saw that Vin waited for him at the first curve of a narrow path, impatience oozing from every pore. "I am coming, my good man. Have faith."

As he walked, or perhaps shuffled, in Vin's path, Ezra looked and listened. Everything smelled of recent rain and he moaned at the squishy feel of the earth under his Italian shoes as feeling tingled back into his feet. He also noticed the silence: No helicopters or calling searchers. He might make it out of here after all. It was still a debate if it would be with or without the Sergeant or the boy

When they rounded the last curve of the crude road, Standish was both delighted and appalled: He was happy a marked police unit wasn't in sight, but he loathed the idea another ride in the barbaric vehicle that got him here. This time, at least, he would not be bound and blindfolded. Spotting Wilmont propped against the rear wheel cut short his stilted joy.

"Oh my," he said, gulping back a sudden rise of bile. Flies hovered around cloudy, unseeing eyes drooped at half mast and the body slumped in a clearly lifeless style. Standish pressed the back of his hand against his lips and stopped, mesmerized.

"Over here," Vin said, worried, jerking Ezra's horrified stare from the dead man. He gathered scattered wits enough to note the small boy's wide berth around the body.

"Um, yes, coming, coming." Wavering, he followed the same path, averting his eyes. He hoped Sergeant Chris wasn't in the same state as Wilmont, but then he considered that maybe that would make things easier. _No, Ezra. Dead policemen never make the situation better._

Vin crouched by a still body dressed in a uniform - mostly dressed, actually. _What is that on his leg?_

"His leg's broke," Vin said in eerie reply.

"I see." Standish edged closer and peered downward. "Interesting use of a ballistic vest. I am sure his leg is quite stable."

The Sergeant appeared pale, but his breathing was steady. Ezra slipped his coat on, comforted by the weight of the Beretta in the pocket, and then squatted down. Every joint made themselves known and he felt a wave of dizziness.

Larabee groaned and rolled his head aside. Vin gently patted his cheek. "Chris? Chris?"

Ezra felt the man's cheek with the back of his fingers, then felt for a pulse at his neck. "His heartbeat is strong and he appears to be in good condition, considering. Do you know where the vehicle keys are, Master Tanner?"

Vin shook his head. "That guy prolly has 'em."

"Oh, yes, indeed." Ezra straightened and stood, his desire to flee overriding his revulsion at the idea of searching a dead body. "Let me take a look, then."

He found the keys in Wilmont's front right pocket, precisely where Standish knew they would be. He started for the driver's side of the car and spied a cell phone on the ground. He picked it up and read the screen.

"That's his," Vin said, pointing to Wilmont.

"Indeed?" _Did he make contact with Iovanni? _Ezra quickly searched prior calls and his heart sank. Wilmont had made contact with Alonzo Iovanni less than an hour ago! _I have to get out of here!_

"I will get help. You stay here with Chris." Ezra started for the car again and made it two steps before the heavier-than-he-looked child latched onto his leg.

"No! We're coming with you!"

Standish lurched to a halt. "OOF!" He thought fast. "Vin, my boy, he needs a doctor. We can't risk moving him." As he spoke, he worked to peel the boy's fingers from his thighs.

"No!"

_Damn it all to hell, is this child related to a limpet? _Ezra picked, pulled and pushed with zero success, and when he tried to walk, the weight on his limb caused his foot to drag. "Master Tanner, stop this foolishness at once. Help will come here for him!"

"I don't believe you."

The statement was flat and held no doubt. Ezra looked down into a pair of stormy eyes. Vin Tanner's jaw was set and did not flinch when their gazes locked. There was no doubt the wiry kid read him precisely - there would be no fooling him. Their likeness in that respect made him pause; Ezra knew the circumstances that formed his own ability in this area and a wash of sorrow went out for the boy.

His Mother would be furious at the feeling. Then again, it was his Mother who got him into this fix to start with. He dragged his personal baggage another foot before giving up with a sign. "Fine. You win." Vin affixed him with a suspicious glare. Ezra rolled his eyes and brushed the boy off, this time successfully. Vin, however, stood firm with clenched fists and made it clear he was ready to launch another assault if necessary.

The thought to run passed quickly. Standish turned stiffly and reluctantly moved toward the uniformed body with Tanner in his wake.

* * *

Buck Wilmington looked out the window with anxious hope, but the cloud layer still rode too low on in the sky. The search, then, continued on foot. He tried not to think of the vast, treacherous area involved. If Chris and the boy did manage to get to shore, there was a small window of time left until night and the darkness loosened another kind of danger. Wolves, bears, wildcats - they were all out there.

He felt his charge shift in his arms. "Vin?" JD's sleepy whisper was hoarse with the promise of a cold.

"We're lookin' for him and Chris. Don't worry, we'll find 'em." Buck brushed back the mop of dark hair with his palm. "You hungry?"

As if on cue, the Ranger cabin door swung open and the woman from the shopping event slipped in with bags of food in her arms. "Officer Wilmington? I'm Nettie Wells. I believe we've met before."

"Yes, m'am, we sure have." He shifted the sleepy JD until he sat up. "Hey, Little Bit, I think I smell hot chocolate."

Mrs. Wells smiled. "You certainly do." She put the bags down and brought two covered cups over. "Along with coffee for you."

"Is there whipped cream?" JD asked as he took the cup.

"What's hot chocolate without whipped cream?" Nettie replied. After he took the cup, Nettie cupped his chin in her hand. "Hmm, you may have a fever, young man."

"I thought so, too." Buck carefully took a sip from his own cup and sighed. "Thanks. I needed this." He took another sip and tipped his head in the direction of the cabin door. "Anything new out there?"

"Not yet as far as I know."

"I want Vin." JD's voice was small, but his fear and disappointment was the biggest thing in the room.

"I know you do, son. So do I. We're doing all we can."

Wilmington prayed it would be enough.

_TBC_

_A/N: I like to respond to feedback, but remember - if you are signed in as a guest I can't reach you (or haven't figured out how to do that. If there is a way, someone let me know?). : ( - AJB_


	5. Part Five

**Shop With A Cop**

**By AJB**

**Part Five**

Scenarios ran through Standish's mind in quick succession. Thinking with any speed increased the pounding of his head and the precariousness of his vision, but he sorted through the ideas and dismissed them one by one as unfeasible. He needed more information.

He squatted next to the uniformed body, his pulse spiking when he saw that a gun rested between the sergeant's lax hand and stomach. He toyed with the thought of taking possession of it for about a second because just then, the lawman groaned.

"Mr. Chris?" Vin asked, hopeful. He knelt across from Standish and gently shook Larabee's shoulder. "Chris?"

Ezra put a hand under the khaki shoulder and helped the sergeant to sit up. "Careful, sir, there is a firearm in your hand."

"Uh, what?" Blinking rapidly, Larabee twitched all over as he awakened and fought for balance. Ezra felt the man's muscles tense under his hand.

"Are you okay?" The boy studied his rescuer's face with obvious relief.

Larabee looked down at the gun in his hand and then looked around, pausing when he saw the body against the car. Then he looked up at Standish and leaned away from him, shoving Vin behind him as he faced the stranger. "Who are you?" he demanded, raising the gun.

Ezra took a step back and rose, raising arms half way up, palms out. His rescued suit jacket lay in a heap on the ground beside Larabee and Standish took a moment to mourn its loss before responding. "Ezra Standish. I do not intend to make trouble, Sergeant. Master Tanner - um, Vin, here - enlisted my help in taking you away from here. He is concerned about your physical well-being."

Sergeant Larabee kept his sharp gaze locked on Standish and quietly asked Vin to find his crutch. In the mean time, he struggled to one knee, stopping once to catch his breath. Vin shoved the crutch into his hand.

Time ticked on in Ezra's head as he counted down from the timestamp on the last call to Iovelli. He needed to be out of here, now; Iovelli's minions were, at best, a half-hour out and Standish still hoped to be far, far away upon their arrival. "As I stated, I only intend to assist you into the vehicle and drive us out of this unfortunate situation." The idea to sprint to the car and depart alone crossed his mind. _Surely, he wouldn't shoot me for such an action . . . would he?_ He smiled pleasantly. "Unless, of course, it is a better solution for me to leave and summon assistance?" He pointed at the vehicle with one raised hand.

"Nobody leaves alone." Chris relaxed a little and tucked the gun into his waistband. "Help me up," he said softly to the boy, eyes still on Ezra, who decided that standing motionless was his best action for the moment. With one hand on Vin's shoulder and the other on his crutch, he levered himself to a wobbly stand, still holding Standish's attention. Larabee finally released Standish from his hard gaze when he tried to walk - he grimaced and caught his breath when the toes of his injured leg caught on the uneven ground.

Standish stepped forward immediately and supported Chris' elbow, and the lawman wavered to a stop and again pinned Ezra with his glare. "I keep the gun."

"I prefer, sir, to avoid firearms at all costs."

Larabee's glare heated. "I know there's more to your being here, Standish."

"And I will happily fill you in on the details, sir, you see . . ."

"Later," Larabee snapped. "First thing is to get this boy to safety." He indicated Vin with a slight tip of his head.

"I heartily agree. Let me assist you, then."

They started moving forward again and Ezra found himself chatting the entire time about the uncouth image of handguns and how they ruined the line of a good suit, hoping to hurry along the departure as the clock ticked down in his head. Plus, he didn't want to encourage any further questioning by the sergeant. Ezra just wanted to be gone as soon a possible. The Sergeant maneuvered into the back so he could extend his leg. Ezra fetched his jacket with an air of loss and rolled it, then tucked it under the injured leg. Mentally, he told the beloved garment goodbye. Meanwhile, Vin scrambled into the front seat and sat there, his wide eyes looking a little glazed. Ezra knew the kid must be exhausted.

"Buckle up, Master Tanner." Standish figured the boy needed to focus on something else as he circled around the front and slid behind the wheel. He fiddled nervously with the keys.

"Move the body." Larabee's tone brooked no discussion.

Ezra ignored the tone. "I certainly will not." He finally fitted the key in the ignition.

"Move it." Ezra felt cold metal against his head. In his peripheral vision, he saw Vin give him a pleading look. Ezra looked beyond him and saw the dead man's reflection in the large rear view mirror on the passenger's side. He refocused on the boy. _Those eyes are worse than bullets, _he thought, disgusted with how easily the boy unknowingly manipulated him. _Mother would be appalled._

Ezra exited the vehicle with a resigned huff and circled around so his back blocked Vin's view before stopping. A zing of fear raced down his spine. He shook his head at the feeling and choked back a laugh. _What are you expecting, for God's sake? This isn't a zombie movie! _He still harbored a tiny thought that the dead man's hand would grab his ankle as he approached. _Tick, tock, Ezra! _

Once at the body's side, he bent over and gave the body a one-handed shove. It didn't move. _Of course not,_ he thought wryly. Ezra bit his lip and shoved harder with both hands, this time rewarded when the form slipped slowly aside, gained momentum and thumped to the ground.

It remained visible in the mirror. Ezra rolled his eyes skyward, counted to three, then moved quickly to grab the body's collar and drag it behind the SUV and out of sight. He wiped his hands on his ruined suit and gave the body a wide berth when he returned to the driver's seat.

He slipped in behind the wheel with a loud sigh. "All right, now, here we go," he said brightly. The door creaked when he pulled it shut. Ezra started the vehicle and it lurched forward, snapping his neck painfully. Larabee hissed and Vin grabbed the door handle. "I do apologize, sirs, for the bumpy start. There is a clutch, I see now. It won't happen again, I assure you. It will take just a moment to adjust to this primitive nature of this vehicle."

"They should have taped your mouth shut," Chris ground out from between clenched jaws, his white- knuckled grip on the seat back pointedly jostling Ezra, who winced when he grinded the gears into place. The car bounced forward.

Standish eventually maintained a smoother pace across the muddy, uneven path following the natural terrain. Each significant bump elicited a feral grunt from the sergeant and a wince from Ezra as he waited for the lawman's hands to lock around his neck. _Time is running out. _

A light sprinkle forced Ezra to find the wipers. The first sweep of the blades rewarded him with a muddy smear.

"I can't see!" Vin worried aloud. His grip on the door's arm rest and the edge of the seat assisted the seatbelt with keeping him in place during the rough ride.

"I do not believe approaching traffic is a hazard at this time, my boy. It should clear up . . ."

The next swipe of the blade cleared the glass enough to see the undercarriage of another off road vehicle loom before them like gaping jaws as it surged over the edge of the hill and directly at them.

"AHHHHH!" Ezra and Vin chorused as Standish jerked the steering wheel aside. Larabee to yelp in anguish when he slammed into the back of the front seats. Tearing metal screeched and their SUV jerked to an abrupt halt.

The Sheriff car lurched aside, missing them, and slipped to a stop just a few feet away. There was a moment of stillness. The windshield wipers sounded two gritty swipes just before the sky opened and rain fell in a torrential downpour.

"Of course," Ezra mumbled with an exasperated sigh. His heartbeat settled and he fumbled for the seatbelt.

Vin's door suddenly opened, revealing the yellow-slickered, uniformed figure of a black man with a worried expression. His attention immediately focused on the boy.

"Vin Tanner?" Vin nodded, mute. "Thank God! Are you hurt anywhere? Let me look." Nathan Jackson reached in but boy pushed his hand away.

"Mr. Chris' hurt!" Tanner squirmed to his knees, slipping from under the seatbelt, and turned to the back seat. "Chris? Chris!"

Nathan retreated, leaving Vin's door open, and yanked open the back door. "Chris? Hold on, don't move . . ."

Ezra's door opened without warning and he startled. His heart rate shot up again.

"Officer Sanchez," the hooded officer said in introduction as he visually evaluated Standish. "You all right?"

Ezra sputtered in disbelief. "Do I _look_ all right to you? I obviously need medical attention! I demand you take me to a hospital immediately!"

"Calm down, sir. All in good time. Let me help you."

"I do not need _your_ help! I need a doctor, post haste!" Ezra threw off Sanchez's paw of a hand and struggled with the seatbelt. _If I can get out of here now, he_ thought, his brain constantly calculating the odds of his escape. Currently, they were in his favor, but only if he departed _now._

"Josiah, I need your help!" Jackson called.

"I'll be right back." Sanchez offered what Ezra perceived as the big man's reassuring smile and stepped away.

"Wait, now! Come back here!" Ezra tried to get out, found the seatbelt still secured, and fought to untangle himself. Once undone, he scrambled out and his feet slipped in the mud and flew in two directions. He hung from the door until he gathered his feet and sloshed around the front of the Bronco, mentally bemoaning the loss of his Italian leather shoes in the drenching rain. "I demand immediate evacuation!" he yelled.

Sanchez and Jacksons' bright slickers hovered on either side of Larabee as they worked him from the rear seat. The sergeant's face twisted in pain. Aside from Jackson giving Ezra an irritated glance, they ignored him.

"Get the boy into our unit. Your car ain't goin' nowhere," Nathan ordered.

Ezra scowled at the double negative and opened his mouth to demand clarification when he caught the dark look Sanchez' sent his way. The pleasant officer had morphed into a frightful figure and Ezra shut his mouth with the image of those large hands clamping down on his arm . . . or neck. He gulped once, felt his neck absently, then made his way to Vin's door and leaned down. "Master Tanner? It seems that we have orders."

"Is he okay? Is he goin' with us?"

"I do not know on the former and yes on the latter." He took Vin's hand and helped him out. "Come on now. I would like to get out of this dreadful precipitation, although I fear it is too late for this particular suit." He brushed a clump of mud from his thigh. It left a wide, brown stain behind. "My haberdasher will be appalled," Ezra muttered, garnering a confused look from the boy. Ezra sighed. "Come on."

The pair made their way around the Sheriff's unit and crawled onto the back seat. From there, Ezra saw that the Bronco had high centered on a partially buried boulder. No, it wouldn't be moving, but hopefully, it would be a distraction to Iovelli's men once they arrived. _But first, we have to be gone!_ He turned his attention to the trio poised at the rear hatch.

The hatch popped open and the two officers lifted Chris until he was able to sit in the cargo area. Jackson fussed with arranging the sergeant's various limbs while Larabee groused at his hovering. Sanchez came around to the driver's side and got in.

"I demand . . ." Ezra started.

"Shut up." Sanchez replied, lifting the radio microphone.

"How rude!" Ezra said. A small hand on his forearm made him look down into a pair of very worried eyes. The raw emotion behind the look made Standish swallow any more complaints. "Um, yes," he mumbled, patting the boy's hand. "Courage, Mr. Tanner. Everything will turn out all right."

The words echoed in his memory. How many times had he told himself that very thing?

* * *

"They found them!"

Buck struggled out of the chair, waking the sleeping figure he held to his chest. "What? Where?"

"Are they okay?" Nettie Well rose with him and moved to his side.

Holding JD close, Wilmington stopped at the office door where a drenched Park Ranger stood, hand on the door knob and dripping rivers onto the floor. "Just heard it on the police radio. They were picked up on the firebreak and on their way in." He smiled at JD, who blinked sleepily back at him. "You're friend will be here soon, kid." Then he turned to Nettie. "They requested an EMT. I don't know why."

"I guess we will wait and see. The fact that their coming in with the unit is good," Buck clarified, smiling. "Is the EMT here already?"

"Yes, sir. Eli Joe's bringin' them to the fire break trailhead from the main lot." He cocked his head, listening. "I think I hear 'em leavin' now." The Ranger stepped back and closed the door.

"Vin's coming?" JD asked, waking quickly.

"Yup. Here, stay with Mrs. Wells for a bit." It took a little work to peel JD's clingy limbs from his torso. JD whined about staying behind. "Dang, you're like an octopus, son!"

Nettie laughed and took the boy from the struggling officer, then set him down on a table top where he stood looking grievously affronted. "Vin needs me!"

"I know he does, JD, but he needs to get out of the rain, too." Nettie said, turning him toward the water streaked window. "It's pouring out there."

"I'll get him in here as soon as I can, I promise." Buck shrugged on his slicker. "Be right back."

He slipped from the office and hurried to the closest idling Sheriff's unit, where he pulled the door open. He closed the door against the rain and sat in the unit. After listening to the radio traffic for a minute, he changed the setting from "all department" to the less formal, unit-to-unit frequency. "Eli, you there?"

The radio crackled. "That you, Buck?"

"Yeah. Who's the EMT for? And was that the coroner I heard on the air?"

"The EMT's for Larabee and someone else, don't know who; the kid, I assume. The order came from Sanchez. I guess there's a body at the scene, too."

A chill of fear made Buck shiver. "Who is it?"

"Don't know yet. They didn't establish ID before evacuating Larabee and the kid."

Buck frowned. There were too many bodies in his mental count. "Okay. See you in a few."

Wilmington threw the unit into drive and set a course to the fire break trailhead.

* * *

Eli Joe Chavez hung up the unit microphone with a curse. There were already too many officers to deal with, and now Wilmington sticks his nose into the scene. Mr. Iovelli couldn't risk showing his face here, not until the scene sorted itself out and he had more information, the most important fact being the identification of the dead body.

Officer Chavez dug out his personal cell phone and made a call.

_TBC_


End file.
